Sweaters
by landslide-state-of-mind
Summary: Beca discovers that Aubrey is knitting her a holiday sweater, and there is no way she's wearing it. No way at all. Is there?


_So clearly I'm bored at the moment. Work is on holiday shutdown, I'm all ready for Christmas and my fiancee's birthday (Christmas Day), and she's still working. Solution - to write as much Mitchsen holiday fluff as I can! Feel free to leave me prompts at my tumblr [thatmitchsentho]. _

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><p>"Come on," Aubrey said. "Wait til it's done."<p>

"No," Beca said. "Look, I'm coming with you to spend the holidays with your family. Your family who I'm pretty sure still hate the fact that you're even dating me. But I absolutely draw the line at wearing that thing."

"That thing?" Aubrey said. "It's a Christmas sweater, and it's one that I'm knitting for you myself. What exactly is so offensive about this item that you won't even consider wearing it?" Her fingers clenched around the needles and she watched as Beca sank onto the other end of the couch.

"Well for starters, it's bright freaking red," Beca said. "That is not a color that exists in my wardrobe."

"Well forgive me if Christmas isn't typically black or navy or grey," Aubrey said.

"And those sweaters are always so freaking lame," Beca said. "Snowmen or reindeers or some festive weird shit. Dorky patterns."

"You tell me all the time that you like mine," Aubrey said.

"Yeah, I like yours on you," Beca clarified. "Do I look like the kind of girl that partakes in holiday themed outerwear?"

"Well," Aubrey said, "I think you've written this off and you haven't thought about one key element." She put the knitting aside.

"Oh, and what's that?"

"That I know you, Beca," she said. "That I know you hate cheesy holiday sweaters and stupid traditions. Yes, it might be red. But it's not going to be as bad as you think. And you're also not the kind of girl you think you are."

"What?" Beca asked. "What do you mean?"

"Hear me out," Aubrey said. "When the both of us got together we had some pretty obvious things in common. We were both stubborn and guarded. We didn't bend easily. Trust easily. Communicate effectively."

"Way to make us sound like a pair of fuck ups," Beca said sarcastically.

"But for want of a better word, we were," Aubrey said. "We were both that kind of girl. But we're not any more."

"We're not?" Beca asked. She scooted closer to the blonde. Aubrey took her hand.

"Well, we're both still stubborn," she admitted. "Somehow I think that one's not going away. But we're definitely not guarded any more. You know everything about me, and I know everything about you. And I can tell that you've opened up to the other girls too." Beca smiled.

"Yeah, maybe," she conceded.

"And we bend, for each other. And we trust each other. And now, we communicate effectively. We took a long time to get here, but we're both a different kind of girl. You're the perfect girl for me. And I know you, Beca," she said. "And I love you." She pulled Beca through the short distance between them to plant a kiss on her. It was soft and gentle but it was full of love.

"I love you, too," Beca smiled.

"So why on earth would you think that I would be knitting a sweater that you would detest out of principle?" Aubrey asked, shoving her lightly.

"Is this thing a magical sweater?" Beca asked. Aubrey rolled her eyes and stuck her hand into the basket of her knitting supplies. She pulled out a stack of paper and shuffled through it until she found the right one.

"If you'll calm your intense melodrama for just one second," Aubrey said, pointing to a picture, "You'll see that it's not that bad." Beca looked at the image. She was surprised. Aubrey was right, it wasn't that bad. In fact, as far as Christmas sweaters went, it was pretty boss. It wasn't exactly a sweater so much as a knitted jacket with white trim, much like Santa's jacket would be. No snowmen or reindeer in sight.

"It's not that bad," Beca huffed in defeat. "And-"

"And what?"

"And honestly I kind of love the fact that you can knit," Beca said. "It's one of those things that people can't really do any more."

"Oh, tell me more," Aubrey teased. Beca half tackled her onto the couch, pinning her to the cushion.

"I love that you know me that well," Beca said. "And that you're the perfect girl for me. And that you count me as one of your family to the point where you'd knit me a Christmas sweater so that I fit in to the family portrait even if they don't want me in it." She leaned in for a kiss, but Aubrey stopped her.

"Beca, you know… surely you get it, right?" she said, brows furrowed. "That you're not just 'one of my family'. That you're the most important person in my family. The person I want to build my future family with. I don't care what my family thinks about you. You know that don't you?" Beca ran her free hand along the side of Aubrey's face.

"Yeah, I know," she said. She leaned down and kissed her, letting her thumb brush along her cheekbone. "I know I moan about your family a lot. But you're my family, too."

"So you'll wear the sweater?" Aubrey asked. Beca rolled her eyes, but kissed her nonetheless.

"Yes, Aubrey, I'll wear the sweater," she said. Aubrey wrapped her arms around Beca's neck and kissed her hard, knitting momentarily forgotten.


End file.
